


Arthur Has a Thing For Merlin's Neckerchiefs

by Mellacita



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 18:23:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellacita/pseuds/Mellacita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's possible Arthur has a <i>thing</i> for Merlin's neckerchiefs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arthur Has a Thing For Merlin's Neckerchiefs

**Author's Note:**

> Written for KMM prompt: neckerchief fetish.

It's possible that Arthur has a _thing_ for Merlin's neckerchiefs.

When Merlin had first shown up in Camelot, Arthur had loudly ridiculed the scrap of fabric around Merlin's neck. Older men wore them, sometimes, to catch the sweat and protect their clothes while they worked in the fields. Those who made their livings in the mines, or digging trenches, used them to keep the dust from suffocating them.

Merlin didn't seem to use his for anything other than holding little purple flowers, or just accentuating his strangeness.

Or so Arthur had thought at the time.

As Merlin's time in Arthur's service grew from months to years, Arthur became familiar with the many other useful purposes a neckerchief might serve. For example, Merlin's neckerchiefs made serviceable bindings for battle wounds. They were also good for mopping things up, important things, like poison antidotes and the water and wine that Merlin inevitably sent spilling across Camelot's state documents at the most inopportune moments.

None of these were Arthur's favourite uses for Merlin's neckerchiefs, however.

\--

One of his favourite uses for Merlin's neckerchief had to be the time he used the blue one to bind Merlin's wrists together. Merlin lay supine against his chest, unresisting, as Arthur brought Merlin's bound wrists over Arthur's head. Arthur used his knees to shove Merlin's legs open, and twined his calves around Merlin's to hold him like that, spread open, his arms stretched up and tethered by Arthur's own neck and shoulders.

He'd kept Merlin like that for over an hour, using one hand to toy with his nipples while the other teased Merlin's straining cock until he mewled. Arthur was nothing if not benevolent, so he only made Merlin beg for a few minutes before Arthur gripped his cock harder and pulled and pulled, all the while whispering filthy things into the shell of Merlin's ear. It had taken most of Arthur's considerable strength to restrain Merlin as he came, hard, all over Arthur's hand and his own belly.

Arthur unwound the neckerchief from Merlin's wrists while Merlin sagged against him in a daze, and used the scrap of cloth to gently clean them both off.

The next time Merlin had worn the blue one, Arthur got hard just from seeing it across the courtyard.

\--

Naturally, the gray one had its uses, as well. Arthur recalled one particularly frenzied afternoon, when knights and soldiers and courtiers were rushing all over the citadel in preparation for a visiting envoy from the Western Isles.

Merlin was mucking out the stables and complaining loudly about it to anyone within earshot. The King had even heard it, and told Arthur to shut his blasted manservant up.

So Arthur did. He manhandled Merlin into an empty stall and shoved him until he was half-seated against bags of feed. Merlin had struggled briefly, but the bulge in his trousers betrayed his interest. He stopped struggling in Arthur's grasp, instead muttering insults about Arthur's parentage. He was so intent on his tirade that when Arthur shoved the neckerchief into Merlin's mouth and tied it securely around his head, it took him a few moments to react. His indignant squawk was muffled by the cloth, and when Merlin made to remove it, Arthur stilled him with gentle hands and a wink.

Merlin tried to stay silent after that, although once Arthur lowered himself to his knees and took Merlin's cock into his mouth, it was a bit difficult. Merlin ended up having to procure a new gray neckerchief (well, Arthur had given him the coin. It _was_ technically his fault) because he bit into the other one so hard that it tore.

\--

There's another neckerchief Arthur tries not to think about, for the memory brings him nothing but pain. It was a another blue one, a bit lighter, perhaps a bit older, than the one that had given him so much pleasure.

Merlin had been wearing it when he sent fireballs at the dozens of Mercian soldiers that had cornered Arthur as they hunted one autumn morning.

The marks on Merlin's neck lingered for days, turning from purple to green to yellow before fading like the leaves on the trees outside Camelot's walls. The marks on Arthur's fists, where he had bit them after the horror of what he was doing hit him, lasted longer. The betrayal each felt of the other, though - that lasted the longest. But even that dissolved with time, and care, and purpose.

Arthur kept that neckerchief, misshapen from his twisting and pulling, stained with tears and the memory of anger woven into its faded threads. It lay deep in one of his armoires, beside his mother's tiara, papers covered with Gaius' scrawl, and Morgana's favourite earrings, tarnished with age and disuse.

\--

Above all others, Arthur has a special fondness for Merlin's red neckerchief. It is as red as the Pendragon banner, and Merlin had worn it the day he finally accepted Arthur's apology for the ugliness that had followed the unveiling of Merlin's secret.

Arthur felt it against his neck as he hugged Merlin close, as he whispered apologies again and again until Merlin told him _enough, you great prat_ and pressed small kisses to Arthur's face. When Arthur untied the fabric from Merlin's neck, Merlin smirked and held out his hands, wrist to wrist, in anticipation of their game.

Instead, Arthur tied the fabric around his own eyes, leaving him vulnerable to whatever Merlin wanted to do to him, with magic or without.

Merlin would tell him, much later, that he knew in that moment what it was like to have the full measure of Arthur's trust.

\--

Years pass and fashions change. The Queen's wardrobe turns over more than a dozen times; Arthur's belts need new holes punched. Merlin grows ever more powerful, and Arthur denies him nothing, so long as he never stops wearing those neckerchiefs.


End file.
